6 Dec 2014

Is Revisting the Past Ever Worth the Effort? - A Guest Post by Afiya S. Zia




In the beginning, it may even be flattering: emails from boys you hardly knew in fifth grade who seek you out on the web from across decades and oceans. It's sweet to have them recall their little crushes. 

And what about those comrades with whom you lost touch and who - now that their children have left and spouses are about to follow - seek out the comfort of old feminist networks ...?

Then there's the return to unfinished intellectual projects that invariably leads one back to academia; this time in the vain attempt to prove that citizenship in the real world affords more valuable lessons than all the theory churned out by those who remained as permanent residents within ivory towers. There's an undeniable sense of righteous joy in exposing those who like to pretend that they never sold out to the corporate world; in showing how they too are complicit with capitalism because knowledge is an expensive business after all.

But is revisiting the past ever really a good idea, or even worth the effort?    

Overeager ex-boyfriends from school showing all sorts of interest in your professional development and the intimate details of your personal life, quickly start to become a bit creepy; nostalgic curiosity ends in cyber-stalking. 

And old comrades are now often just old and troubled by the spectre of loneliness. They used to ask what could be done to overthrow patriarchy; now they simply want to know where all the good men have gone and how they might find one for themselves.  

Meanwhile, the path to redemption via further academic accomplishment leads nowhere; one is little different from all those others who scramble up career ladders and chase success. We all conform and play the same game at last.

Having said that, there remains, of course, the shining hope of revisiting the past; i.e. that one just might reconnect with someone whom one should never have let go in the first place.

Also, crucially, it affords one the opportunity not to put things right, but, rather, to repeat mistakes - only this time without regret. For one looks back and travels back not in order to correct the past with the benefit of hindsight, but to make an affirmation of all that's been and of one's own life to date, complete with all its many errors and multiple stupidities.


Afiya S. Zia is a feminist scholar, activist, and provocateur based in Karachi. She is the author of Sex Crime in the Islamic Context (1994) and has also published numerous essays and articles. She is currently completing a new work entitled Faith and Feminism in Pakistan, whilst studying for a Ph.D. at the Women and Gender Studies Institute (University of Toronto). 

Ms Zia appears here as part of the Torpedo the Ark Gastautoren Programm and I am very grateful for her kind submission of a text written especially for this blog and, indeed, for the recent photo taken in Chelsea Market, NYC. 


4 Dec 2014

And Winner, of the 2014 Torpedo the Ark Award, Is ...



... third-year journalism student, Vicky Chandler.

Vicky wins the award for her successful campaign to have a gig at her university by Dapper Laughs, the comic alter-ego of comedian Daniel O'Reilly, cancelled on the grounds that his act infringed upon the university's own policies concerning the right of students and staff to live and work in an environment free of all forms of discrimination and free from any form of violence or bullying - including incitement to hatred. 

O'Reilly first came to fame via social media by posting six-second videos in which he, amongst other things, ridiculed rape victims and glorified sexual abuse. He quickly built up a large (mostly male) following and, impressed by the numbers and his "risqué brand of humour", he was offered his own prime time dating show on ITV2 in September of this year entitled Dapper Laughs: On the Pull. The theme of the show was essentially how to fuck (and humiliate) women, all of whom, apparently, were gagging for it.

However, after Vicky's campaign against O'Reilly was picked up by the national news media, an online petition was launched urging ITV to pull the plug on his show. This they duly did in November, by which time the petition had gained almost 70,000 signatures. A forthcoming Dapper Laughs live tour was also cancelled.

To be fair to O'Reilly, he did go on Newsnight and apologise to Emily Maitlis for causing offence and being such a prick; indeed, he even announced his intention to immediately kill off the character of Dapper Laughs. This, however, hasn't stopped many of his fans and followers from continuing to direct vile and threatening abuse towards Ms Chandler. 

She, for her part, accepts that whilst O'Reilly has played a significant role in encouraging such behaviour, he too is basically just a symptom (one might even say a victim) of what is known as rape culture (i.e. a culture in which rape is pervasive and has been normalized or made in some manner acceptable, on the back of received ideas and socially reinforced attitudes about gender, sexuality, and power).

There can, I think, be saucy innuendo and affectionate teasing between the sexes; but sexism is never innocent and laddism, unfortunately, is never more than a couple of lagers away from something far more sinister. 

29 Nov 2014

On the Three Ways to Care

Image from a KiddiKraft blog post dated 30 July 2014


There are at least three important ways in which one might offer care to others: 

(i) with compassion -

(ii) with indifference -

(iii) with resentment -

To care with compassion, or with sympathy, is to actively share in the suffering of others whilst at the same time maintaining the integrity of one's own soul. It is not motivated by a will to merger and it is not merely a mechanical feeling of pity for those one deems deserving of such. Compassion is a noble virtue of the heart free from moral judgement. 

To care with indifference sounds, at first, somewhat paradoxical. But, for me, whilst indifference is certainly not a form compassion, it doesn't mean that one is completely uncaring. Rather, it means that one does so with an ironic perspective and a healthy degree of insouciance. Indifference is an instinctive reaction to the suffering which would otherwise overwhelm us and compel us to tears; a form of self-protection against the mortal danger of becoming over-concerned and eaten up with caring. Indifference is a noble quality of mind.

To care with resentment is to poison the very concept of care. It is a feeling against rather than with or even for others and it ultimately causes the person who experiences it to fall out of touch not only with those who have (rightly or wrongly) caused such bitterness, but with their own good nature; they become trapped inside a bubble of hostile emotion created by their own humiliated ego. When resentment is felt towards someone to whom one is closely related, such as a parent or child, then it is particularly intense and can lead to extraordinary acts of spite.

To conclude: take care - and be caring; for the former, as a practice of the self, depends on how we interact with others.  


28 Nov 2014

We Are All Hunchbacks



One must inevitably clash with those individuals - such as my sister - who are beyond reason and kindness; those who are fatally burdened with history and round shouldered with memories of the past, allowing this to deform and define who they are.

To be crippled and subjectified in this manner - to literally have too much behind one - is to suffer cruelly. But, as Zarathustra says, if you take away the hump from a hunchback you take away their soul.

Besides, are we not all of us to a greater or lesser extent hunchbacks? That is to say, are we not all of us made a little monstrous by our parents and our upbringing? 

As Philip Larkin so memorably pointed out in verse, the misery and resentment that we feel and spend a lifetime trying to overcome is passed down the generations just as surely as certain genetic conditions, including debilitating forms of kyphosis: 

They fuck you up, your mum and dad. / They may not mean to, but they do.

If only my sister could be made to understand this, then she might learn not only to think a little more philosophically, but be a little happier - which, in turn, would make me a little happier and enable us to develop a connection of some kind.


Notes: 

For Zarathustra's encounter and discussion with a hunchback, see 'Of Redemption', in Thus Spoke Zarathustra.

Philip Larkin's 'This Be The Verse', from which I quote, can be found in Collected Poems, ed. Anthony Thwaite, (Faber and Faber, 2003).


27 Nov 2014

OMG! I Finally Agree With Julie Burchill

Julie Burchill by Phil Disley (2013)


I know that times of conflict and violent upheaval can lead to strange alliances and the sharing of space with some rather dubious bedfellows, but who would have guessed I'd finally want to cuddle up to Julie Burchill?

At the very least, I'm sympathetic to her recent piece in The Spectator in which she argues that, for some men, the misogyny of the Islamic State is a crucial part of their appeal; i.e. far from being problematic, the abominable manner in which they treat women and young girls is the perverse factor that makes otherwise impotent losers hard with sexual excitement. 

And this, shamefully, includes those far-left apologists in the West who defend the actions of the jihadis and fail to condemn their gynocidal gender politics. Self-hatred goes some way - perhaps a long way - towards explaining this. But so too does a suppressed feeling of resentment towards women and their emancipation in what was doubtless the most significant and successful of all modern revolutions. 

I think Burchill is right to touch on this and entirely justified to think about holy war within a wider context of desire. She's right also to link the violent abuse of women and the negation of their rights by Islamists to nice, middle-class white youths masturbating to misogynistic rap music and sharing rape jokes online. 

For feminists, there is therefore a far wider and far more disturbing problem to address here than one to do with beards and veils; one that is as much about pornographic models of masculinity within contemporary popular culture as it is religious fundamentalism.

    
Note: the Julie Burchill article to which I refer first appeared in the print edition of The Spectator magazine, dated 22 November 2014. It can be found in the online edition by clicking here.  

 

22 Nov 2014

On the Poetry and Politics of the Mushroom

Mushrooms - Sylvia Plath, by petropicto on deviantart.com


Whether D. H. Lawrence might fairly be described as a mycophobe is debatable, but it's certainly the case that all things fungal - including the beastly bourgeois parasitically flourishing amid decay - cause a violently hostile reaction, as we see, for example, in the following lines of verse:


How beastly the bourgeois is
especially the male of the species -

Nicely groomed, like a mushroom
standing there so sleek and erect and eyeable -
and like a fungus, living on the remains of bygone life
sucking his life out of the dead leaves of greater life than his own.

And even so, he's stale, he's been there too long.
Touch him, and you'll find he's all gone inside
just like an old mushroom, all wormy inside, and hollow
under a smooth skin and an upright appearance.

...

Standing in their thousands, these appearances, in damp England
what a pity they can't all be kicked over
like sickening toadstools, and left to melt back, swiftly
into the soil of England.


Contrast these lines in which Lawrence identifies male members of the English middle-class as members of the fungus family (a large group of eukaryotic organisms that include yeasts, moulds, and mushrooms and which are distinct from plants and animals, even though they often have a symbiotic relationship with these other life forms), with what Sylvia Plath writes in her very beautiful if slightly menacing poem 'Mushrooms':


Overnight, very
Whitely, discreetly,
Very quietly

Our toes, our noses
Take hold on the loam,
Acquire the air.

Nobody sees us,
Stops us, betrays us;
The small grains make room.

Soft fists insist on
Heaving the needles,
The leafy bedding,
Even the paving.
Our hammers, our rams,
Earless and eyeless,

Perfectly voiceless,
Widen the crannies,
Shoulder through holes. We

Diet on water,
On crumbs of shadow,
Bland-mannered, asking
Little or nothing.
So many of us!
So many of us!
We are shelves, we are
Tables, we are meek,
We are edible,

Nudgers and shovers
In spite of ourselves.
Our kind multiplies:

We shall by morning
Inherit the earth.
Our foot's in the door.


What's immediately striking is how Plath has a much more positive view of fungus; she sees in it the revolutionary hope of the future and relates it not to a decadent ruling class, but, on the contrary, to a subversive underclass who will one day come to fruition and bear spores.

This image of a soft-body of people rising up, is said by feminist critics to refer to the emancipation and empowerment of women and I like this interpretation as it's one that offers great promise and is not merely threatening. There's also none of the hysteria that one finds in Lawrence's verse.  
        

References: 

D. H. Lawrence, 'How beastly the bourgeois is -', The Poems (Vol. I), ed. Christopher Pollnitz, (CUP, 2013). 
Sylvia Plath, 'Mushrooms', The Colossus and Other Poems, (William Heinemann, 1960).    

21 Nov 2014

Screen Grab

Image from the award winning web series Perfect Girl by BananaMana Films (2014):


The frozen image of a loved one at the termination of a video call, just before they vanish back into the void and the screen returns to the comforting neutrality of a homepage, is, for me at least, a moment of great digital poignancy. 

Hanging up a telephone was one thing; a quick goodbye and the simple click of a receiver. But there's something far-more heart-rending about disconnecting from a person one cannot only hear, but see, smiling and looking beautiful on a bed that one has perhaps shared with them (or dreamed of sharing). 

One cannot help putting fingers to the screen and trying to touch their face; to hold onto them for just a short while longer ...   


On Doing (and Not Doing) the White Thing



Having earlier this year evicted lesbians from their store in Brighton for kissing in the aisles and taken the decision to exploit the tragedy of the Great War for a Christmas ad in order to flog a few extra bars of chocolate, Sainsbury's seem eager to now demonstrate their racial insensitivity with a new poster campaign designed to promote its company values. Paying a marginally fairer price to British dairy farmers for their milk than some others in the retail sector, is just one way in which Sainsbury's are, apparently, doing the white thing.

Obviously, I get it: it's a pun that even has something of a history to it. One recalls, for example, a popular campaign launched several years ago by the National Dairy Council in which various celebrities encouraged us to drink more of the white stuff. However, speaking as a black man, I have to say I do find the Sainsbury's ad to be contentious at the very least - if not overtly offensive.

For unlike the Dairy Council slogan, the Sainsbury's one crosses a fine line and passes onto extremely unpleasant territory. One can't help thinking of skin colour and normative Aryan values, rather than a pint of semi-skimmed; can't help recalling a long and depressing history of racism in which all of the ancient virtues were associated with fairness of complexion. Nietzsche writes of this in the Genealogy (I. 5).

And so Sainsbury's should stop using this slogan and they should apologise to their non-white staff and customers. They should, in other words, do the right thing by all of us who reject entirely the false and pernicious equivalence made between skin colour, purity of blood, and nobility of spirit - all of us who have no wish to play the white man


15 Nov 2014

Torpedo the Ark Means: I Hate Everything

 I Hate Everything bangle by Me and Zena
See website for full details: meandzena.com


I am often asked what the phrase torpedo the ark signifies, despite the fact that I have explicitly stated in several posts that, for me, it primarily means having done with the judgement of God; i.e. rejecting any notion of indebtedness to a deity and refusing to face a celestial tribunal where one will eternally be found guilty and sentenced to death and damnation.  

In taking up this critical project - one that Kant failed so miserably to accomplish - one hopes to continue and possibly develop or send spiraling off in a new direction, the work of the truly great artists and thinkers, including Spinoza, Nietzsche, D. H. Lawrence, and Deleuze.

For those, however, who like things expressed in less philosophical terms, then torpedo the ark might be said to simply mean this: I hate everything.

The concept of hate, of course, mustn't be understood in a purely reactive manner; hate is more than simply love on the recoil (as if love were the great primary term or essential prerequisite). And it's crucial not to simply fall back into metaphysical dualism, where love and hate are two fixed terms of opposition.

That said, I suppose we can provisionally agree that love is ultimately a will to merger and the dream of blissful union with all mankind, the heavenly host, and, ultimately, God himself, whilst hate is the desire to be separate and the ability to discriminate and distinguish between things. Thus whilst love makes us open up our arms and embrace the universe, hate teaches us to kick with our legs and stand on our own two feet as sovereign individuals, proud of our own singular nature and keen to discover and create new worlds. 

When Zarathustra encourages his listeners to become hard like diamonds, he means they should abandon love when it has become a morbid moral ideal exclusively tied to values born of sickness; he means they should become a little more independent and a little more hateful; that they should shatter the old law tables, tear down the Cross, and torpedo the ark.

This might seem to be an evil teaching, but, as Blake pointed out, evil is only the active or most vital power that flows into us from behind and below. And it is this power - or more precisely the feeling of this power - that causes delight and helps us give birth to what is best in us and to the future.     

We can conclude, therefore, that whilst kindness, kisses, and cuddles all have their place within a general economy of the heart, so to does cruelty, combat, and the determination to kick against the pricks and all that is rotten. As Lawrence writes, we must learn to accept all the subtle promptings of the incalculable soul; from the most passionate love, to the fiercest hate. Only this will keep us sane and beyond judgement.


14 Nov 2014

At the Tail End of German Idealism

Nico Metten: Libertarian


Nico Metten is a young German sound designer with a ponytail. He is also someone with interesting views on the question of immigration and national border controls. In a nutshell, he wants to encourage and massively extend the former as a good thing per se, whilst completely dissolving the latter as a matter of principle.

For Nico is a libertarian. He also openly admits to being an idealist which, in his case, means he is someone who believes that everyone is just like him; namely, an abstract labour unit. Or, at least, they should be. Otherwise he's fully prepared to subject them to the law, thereby equating radical difference or any form of otherness that can't be subsumed within a universal humanism, with criminality and terrorism.  

Nico doesn't conceive of those who care nothing for freedom - understood primarily as the freedom of the market place - or bourgeois individualism. That some men and women might value fulfilment over freedom and find such collectively as members of a people, is not something he even stops to consider. 

Besides, a global economy will put an end to such social primitivism in favour of the systematic anarchy and triumphant philistinism which he, Nico, favours, but which, as Nietzsche points out, allows someone only as much culture as it is in the interest of commerce that they should possess. If old ways of being persist, they may do so only as lifestyles; i.e. as commodities that afford men and women the chance to dress-up and indulge in colourful games of nostalgic make-believe, but not to opt-out of the New World Order. 

Of course, Nico is right to argue that many people have been granted human rights within the above and we should not simply dismiss this fact. But, on the other hand, as Deleuze and Guattari argue, human rights ultimately fail to address or compensate for the "meanness and vulgarity of existence that haunts democracies ... The ignominy of the possibilities of life that we are offered."

And so, sorry Nico, but I'm unconvinced by your attempts to politically theorize; one respectfully suggests that you don't give up the day job. And maybe think about a haircut.

                                                                                  
Note: Lines quoted from Deleuze and Guattari are in What is Philosophy?, trans. Graham Burchell and Hugh Tomlinson, (Verso, 1996), pp. 107-08.